Chapter 151: All of You Stand Out

Translator: Tim Editor: Chrissy

Ye Mo looked at the man. He was under forty, with a waxy face and a bizarre, short, shining black sword—a stark contrast to his pale complexion.

This man was significantly stronger than Hu Qiu, though not as strong as Wu Qiang; he was likely on par with Zhang Jue.

Ye Mo hadn't expected such a master at the Ye Family Mansion. He judged the man to be a Tertiary Stage Yellow Level martial artist. If Ye Mo were still at Stage 2 Chi Gathering, he would have fled immediately; escape, even alone, would have been difficult, let alone with Ye Ling on his back.

But now, at Stage 3 Chi Gathering, he could defeat Wu Qiang in under twenty moves. This man was weaker than Wu Qiang.

Ye Mo was considering whether to kill him when the man's long sword whistled toward his waist, a seemingly effortless strike aimed to bisect him.

Though a single swing, it produced dozens of blade images. Even Hu Qiu's whip skills were inferior to this man's swordsmanship.

The speed and precision were remarkable. Such skill required not only rare techniques but also substantial inner qi. Ye Mo saw that the target wasn't his waist, but his legs.

The man likely anticipated Ye Mo dodging the initial strike, thus aiming a follow-up, ground-sweeping cut. Before completing the swing, he shifted his weight, crouching slightly. Ye Mo noticed this subtle change. Landing within a ten-meter radius would result in the loss of his legs. Failure to dodge the first strike would, of course, cost him his waist. He clearly expected Ye Mo to evade the first attack.

Ye Mo sneered. Fighting someone so far beneath him presented no challenge. He anticipated every move.

Despite carrying Ye Ling, Ye Mo twisted slightly, evading the dozens of blade shadows.

The man, however, was pleased by Ye Mo's dodge. His blade moved instantly, arcing from the ground. In the dim light, the attack covered a seven-meter radius.

He sneered, confident that if Ye Mo landed, his legs would be severed.

Ye Mo didn't land. Even with Ye Ling, he used Wind Controlling Art to glide over ten meters. His foot landed on the discarded sword.

The man's sneer froze. He hadn't expected such an evasion.

Shocked, he reacted instantly, attempting to retrieve his sword.

Ye Mo felt a strong force beneath his foot. As he applied more force, the sword snapped in two. The man, seizing the remaining half, instantly lunged, the sword flashing toward Ye Mo's stomach, his fists blurring toward Ye Mo's chest.

Ye Mo was surprised by the man's combined sword and fist skills.

As the sword neared his stomach, he kicked it away, simultaneously countering the fist shadows with a single punch.

Bang! Bang! The impact echoed.

Crack! Ye Mo, unrestrained, swiftly countered the fist shadows, breaking both the man's wrists.

The man stumbled back, his waxy face paling. Pain couldn't mask his shock. Even peak Yellow Level martial artists couldn't defeat him, yet this youth had effortlessly broken his attack and shattered his wrists.

It was the first time since graduating that he'd met such a formidable opponent. He hadn't even lasted ten moves.

Ye Mo looked coldly at the man. "Were you aiming for one or both legs?"

Ye Mo wasn't sure; the man's skill was such that if he hadn't stepped on the blade, he would have been at the man's mercy.

"Just the left leg," the man gasped, sweat beading on his pale face.

"Very well. I'll return the favor." Ye Mo kicked the remaining sword fragment, sending it faster than the man's original attack.

Psh! A faint sound.

Before the man understood, his left leg was severed. Ye Mo had vanished. Terror gripped him as blood gushed from his wound. The casual throw had sliced through his leg like tofu. Who was this man? Such strength and ruthlessness were terrifying. If he wished to destroy the Ye Family, even with reinforcements, they would be no match. To encounter such a master in the city was unbelievable. He trembled.

"Master, what's wrong?" A youth in his twenties rushed to his side.

Relieved, the man gasped, "My wrists are broken! Carry me away, quickly! Grab my leg!"

...

"Twenty to thirty people, plus Huang Yue—why aren't they here yet? Wenjin, check." Ye Beirong had calmed down; regardless of the youth's identity, he would be killed after questioning. The Ye Family was not a place for casual visitors.

"No need. I'm here," a cold voice announced from the doorway.

Ye Beirong leaped up, staring at Ye Mo in disbelief. He hadn't been captured. After a moment, he reacted, "How did you get in? What happened to Huang Yue and the others?"

"Didn't you summon me? The yellow-faced swordsman? I severed his leg and broke his wrists. He's gone," Ye Mo said coldly.

"What?" Ye Beirong's head swam. He knew Huang Yue's strength. To sever his leg—how powerful must this youth be? And why did he seem familiar?

Ye Long also knew Huang Yue's strength. Though initially disbelieving, reports quickly confirmed Ye Mo's claim. His gaze shifted, recognizing that someone capable of crippling Huang Yue must be from the hidden sects.

Ye Beirong received the report, his expression grave. He whispered, "Report this immediately."

"Brother, why are you back?" Ye Ling gazed at the hall in fear. Sentenced to death that morning, the threat of a three-day whipping hung over her. The house filled her with dread.

"Who are you? How dare you? This is the Ye Family! Ye Ling, how dare you bring outsiders here?" Ye Wenqi, sensing his father's displeasure, shouted.

Ye Mo glanced at Ye Wenqi. "Are you deaf? Ye Ling called me brother. I'm Ye Mo. I'm no longer part of this family."

He would never claim kinship with the Ye Family. Regardless of Ye Wentian's biological relationship, he wasn't a member.

"You're Ye Mo?" Ye Long stood, shocked. He understood why Ye Mo survived the Song Shaowen incident. Crippling Huang Yue made killing Song Family members a trivial task. The Song Family couldn't retaliate, they dared not. Their intelligence gathering was clearly inferior.

Ye Beirong understood as well. He hadn't expected Ye Mo's growth.

Composing himself, he suppressed his shock. He sat down and regarded Ye Mo. "Being Ye Mo, a Ye Family member, why did you break the mosque's door?"

"Father, I tested Ye Mo's blood at the hospital—he's not family," Ye Wenqi interjected.

"Shut up," Ye Beirong snapped.

Ye Mo sneered. "I'm not family. I don't need reminding. I never considered myself one. I'm here to settle a debt. Whoever struck Ye Ling yesterday—step forward. Or face the consequences. Don't doubt me."